


Life That You Know

by acommontater



Series: The College/trans!Blayne 'verse [3]
Category: Glee
Genre: F/M, Trans!Blaine, trans!blayne
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-11 01:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4416602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acommontater/pseuds/acommontater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>(aka the actual College AU fic that the 'verse is named after.)</p><p>Kurt wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten roped into doing this.</p><p>But when he’d been asked to help out with some friends final group project for their photography class, this hadn’t been what he’d had in mind. Not that he’d ever had any fantasies about being surrounded by beautiful women in various states of half-dress in the first place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for Alo/foxykurt after their prompt of Kurt meeting Blayne while doing her makeup. (Or something roughly along those lines since the orignial post got deleted when Alo remade hOW COULD YOU.) Title from Madonna's Vogue.

Kurt wasn’t quite sure how he’d gotten roped into doing this.

But when he’d been asked to help out with some friends final group project for their photography class, this hadn’t been what he’d had in mind. Not that he’d ever had any fantasies about being surrounded by beautiful women in various states of half-dress in the first place.

All Kevin had told him was that they desperately needed someone to do makeup, and that he knew Kurt had helped out with the school’s production of South Pacific last semester and please please please we will give you whatever you want if you’ll do this for us. Kurt had agreed- what was the harm in helping out a friend?

He’d walked into the room Kevin had told him to meet them at and narrowly avoided knocking over a leggy blonde who’d been wearing nothing but various bits of tight black leather, gravity defying heels,  and carrying a whip. He’d almost turned tail and run, but Kevin had found him then and assured him that the Dominatrix theme was part of Ellis’ project, not theirs.

Kevin’s group was more focused on a retro theme- which had apparently been translated to pinup girls a la 1940s.

Kevin had shown Kurt the table and mirror’s where he would be working and then had to run back to help his group with something.

Once Kurt had relaxed- helped by the first girl he’d done up, a chatty girl who worked at the student center- he let himself look around. Once he got over the surprise of seeing so much skin, some of the outfits were really rather cute.

He finished off the fifth girl’s makeup (for about the  _seventh time_  because she would _not stop fidgeting_  and making the liquid eyeliner go everywhere. He been about to strangle her.) and another girl immediately took her place while Kurt reorganized his table.

She was dressed in a striped sailor’s outfit that complemented her curves, with cut-off shorts and a neckline that plunged down far enough to show off her red and white patterned bra. A red scarf tied around her head kept the riot of dark curls from escaping. Kurt finally looked her in the eyes and… oh. She had long eyelashes that framed her large honey-colored eyes perfectly. She winked at him and stuck out her hand.

“I’m Blayne.”

Kurt shook her hand.

“I’m gay.”

And immediately resisted the urge to dig a whole in the ground and disappear. Blayne covered her mouth, giggling at Kurt’s mortified expression. She patted him on the shoulder.

“It’s okay, I thought I was too for a while.” She tells him seriously, before breaking out into another grin. Kurt sighs.

“I meant to say- Hi. I’m Kurt.”

She flutters her eyelashes flirtatiously at him.

“Pleasure to meet you, sir.” She drawls in an exaggerated Southern accent.

Kurt does her makeup- shimmery blues and white highlights to go with her outfit- and focused on not losing his train of thought when he brushes the eyeshadow onto the delicate skin of her eyelids. Or tracing the white eyeliner down the gentle curve. Or tracing blush across her cheekbones. And especially not when he’s applying the cherry-red lipstick to her plump mouth.

He forces himself to step back.

“Alright, you’re set to go.”

She opens her eyes and hops off the stool. She wearing elegant heels that make her almost as tall as Kurt.

“Thanky kindly good sir.” She winks at him one last time, and then disappears back behind the tall mirrors for her photos.

Kurt stares after her until that girl now sitting on the stool clears her throat in irritation.

He doesn’t see the girl again during the photoshoot, despite looking at every chance he got. So, he hunts down Kevin.

“Kevin! You know how you said you’d give me anything I wanted if I agreed to help you out?”

“Yeah….” Kevin eyes him suspiciously.

“There was a model here, Blayne- she was doing and American theme with sailors or something.”

“Yes, and?”

Kurt swallowed hard.

“Can you get me her number?”

Kevin never does get Kurt Blayne’s number. Granted, it had only been about a day since the photoshoot, but Kurt wasn’t exactly known for his patience.

History had been grueling that day- stupid class anyway, in his opinion, two and a half hours once a week. He was going to be a  _designer,_ so why did he need to care about what had happened when the Vikings invaded other countries? Fur and helmets were not exactly high fashion in any day or age- so he had run to the on-campus coffee shop.

He gets in the short line and starts fending off Rachel’s texts. She has an audition next week and has been trying to rope him into coming over and running lines with her. Normally he’d be happy to help her out, but he’s just got too much going on and too much homework to make trips over to NYADA.

“Next!”

Kurt doesn’t look up as he focuses on his phone. (She was now trying to convince him to meet one of the guys in her theater class again-  **This time he’s gay Kurt, I swear**.  _NO, Rachel.)_

“A non-fat mocha, please.” He tells the barista, barely glancing up. ( **But Kuuuuurt**.  _NO_.)

“I’ll have you know that that is no way to talk to a lady, young man. $2.75’s your total.”

Kurt nearly drops his phone as he whips his head up to see the barista laughing at him.

“Blayne! Hi!”

(He definitely doesn’t pay attention to how red her mouth is or how her eyes sparkle when she laughs. Because that would be ridiculous.)

She swipes his card and eyes his phone, still clutching in his hand.

“Girlfriend trouble?”

“Rachel? Oh, no, she’s not my girlfriend- I mean, she is a girl, who is my friend, but we’re not… I’m not…If I were straight we’d probably be dating, but right now she’s trying to set me up with  _another_  one of her theater friends, and just  _no_.”

Blayne raises an eyebrow at him as she scribbles his name and order onto the sleeve of his cup. She has cute eyebrows, Kurt thinks. Then mentally slaps himself, because cute eyebrows? Seriously?

Blayne pouts dramatically at him.

“So, I guess I don’t stand a chance with the cute make-up boy against all the hunky guys chasing him down, huh?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” Kurt blurts out, before going fire-engine red.

Blayne looks surprised for a moment, then grins at him.

“About the hunky boys chasing you, or me having a chance?”

“Um.”

She laughs. Kurt tries to will himself back to his normal coloring, and fails.

“Well then, Kurt…?”

“Hummel. Kurt Hummel.”

“Blayne Anderson. Well, Kurt Hummel, I certainly hope to see you again.”

She winks at him- damn those long lashes of hers- and hands him his coffee.

Another crowd of customers rushes in and Kurt is forced to leave. He looks at his cup, rotating it around. A string of numbers is written next to his name in loopy handwriting. He grins and takes a sip of coffee.

It’s the best thing he’s ever tasted.

_____________________________________________________

Life keeps Kurt busy for the next week and a half. He’s 95% sure that his professors are conspiring against him and by the time he finishes his last final he feels as though he could sleep for a week. Or at least, he totally would, except that his Dad and Carole are coming up for the weekend and he needs to get ready.

Finn was still away at training, and Fall/Thanksgiving break was really just a four-day weekend since Thanksgiving was on a Friday. So his parents had decided that instead of Kurt going through the hassle of coming home for just a couple days, they would come out to see him for the weekend.

(“Get the real down-low on the city.” As Burt had put it.

Kurt had opened his mouth to remind him how out-dated his slang was before just settling in for an old-fashioned eye-roll.)

He dragged his booted feet to the coffee-shop (no, he absolutely hadn’t been coming there more frequently to try and run into a certain barista even though the shop down the block made better coffee. Because that would be stupid of him.) and got his order.

Moving on auto-pilot to exit the shop, he narrowly avoided running into the person walking through the door.

“Well, hey there, stranger. Haven’t seen your cute face around here in a while.”

“Blayne! Hi!” Kurt smiled widely. “Yeah, I just finished my last final this afternoon. I swear my professors are out to get me.”

She groaned in sympathy.

“That’s horrible. I finished mine a few days ago- it’s wonderful to have time to do things like sleep and eat regular meals. Are you sticking around for break, or heading out to wherever you live.”

She gestured that he should walk with her as she joined the short line for hot beverages. They walked slowly as they talked.

“I’m staying on campus, but my dad and step-mom are coming up for the weekend. My dad wants me to give them a tour of the "real city” and Carole wants to make sure I get to spend time with my family. My step-brother is at boot camp, so they didn’t feel like making me travel all the way out to the-middle-of-nowhere, Ohio.“

Blayne smiled at him.

"Ohio, huh? Where at?”

“The great and glorious back-assward city of Lima.”

She laughed, and quickly gave her order to the person behind the counter (medium drip, with three pumps of the flavor of the month).

“That’s hysterical- I’m from Westerville, like, an hour away from there.”

“Small world- it’s amazing we never ran into each other there. I’m sure I would remember seeing you.”

Blayne stiffened as she grabbed her cup and turned to the counter to add a dash of cinnamon.

“Well, it’s probably better this way- high school was a horribly awkward time for me. The horror’s of hitting puberty after everyone else. I’m pretty sure I’ve burned every picture from that time.”

Kurt chuckles.

“Please, it can'tve been that bad. If it helps, I went through a phase of wearing bondage gear with almost every outfit sophmore year.”

“Nope, mine was definitely worse. You wouldn’t even recognize me if you knew me back then.”

During their talk they’d found their way to a small table at the back and sat down.

Kurt put his hands up.

“Alright, alright. I’ll have to see your fashion faux-pas of yester-year and we can compare the bad taste of our younger selves at some point.”

Blayne just laughs. (Kurt finds himself wondering if it would be creepy to try and get a recording of the sound and set it as a personalized ringtone. He’s never heard anyone laugh so brightly. Then he slaps his inner-self. What the hell, seriously.)

They chatter about their classes and professors, about events on campus that they’d been to, music (Kurt didn’t care how much Blayne liked the bright colors of Katy Perry’s outfits- she was never going to be better than Lady Gaga), fashion (They both had subscriptions to Vouge), and anything else that came to mind.

There was eventually a lull in the conversation. Kurt took a sip of his coffee and was surprised to find that it was cold. Checking his watch, he realized that it had been nearly two and a half hours.

“So, Blayne, are you sticking around this weekend as well? Or are you spending the holiday with the family?”

“Staying here, definitely. I wouldn’t want to waste my money on getting out to Ohio for a day.” She held up her coffee cup, closed one eye in concentration, poking her tounge out of her mouth, and tossed it effortlessly across the shop into the trashcan. Pumping a fist in the air, she whooped. “She shoots! She scores! Nothing but air!”

Kurt applauds loudly. Blayne bows, sweeping her hand through the air.

“Thank you, thank you, I’ll be here all night.”

They leave the shop with plans to meetup over the short break and Kurt wondering how she smells like honeysuckle and crisp apples at the same time.

_______________________________________________________

Kurt enjoys showing his dad and Carole around the city a lot more than he thought he would.

They do the tourist circuit- Times Square, Broadway, Empire State Building, Chinatown for dim sum, the Statue of Liberty, Central Park- plus Kurt shows them some of his favorite little nooks and crannies that he’s discovered while living in the city. (Burt takes great delight in crowning Carole with one of those tacky foam Lady Liberty circlets, to Kurt’s mortification, and Carole gets Burt an ‘I <3 NYC’ baseball hat. He’d refused to get a Yankee’s cap on principale.)

They’d said their goodbyes at the parklot where they’d parked their car for the weekend (Burt had to head down to D.C anyway) and Kurt had forced himself not to cry.

It was mid-afternoon by the time he got back to campus, foot-sore and ready to watch bad television and eat ice cream. A figure was sitting on a bench outside his dorm, hands clasped in front of her, staring at the sidewalk. Kurt slowed down as he approached.

“Blayne?”

Her head shot up at his voice, and he was disheartened to see that her normally bright eyes were red-rimmed and her makeup was smudged.

“Hi, Kurt.” Her voice was steady at least. “Um, I know I’m early, but I tried to call you and you didn’t pick up so…”

He pats his pockets.

“Oh, no it’s fine. I must’ve left my phone here by accident. I was just seeing my dad and step-mom off.”

“Oh. You must be exhausted- I’ll just head home then. I…”

Kurt catches her shoulder as she turns to go.

“Hey, no. That’s not what I meant. Come on in.”

She wipes a finger under her eyes, trying to salvage her make-up, unsuccessfully.

“I’ve got make-up remover upstairs- we can get you cleaned up. How does an ice-cream and rom-com movie night sound?”

She gives him a watery smile.

“That sounds great. Do you have  _When Harry Met Sally_?”

He looped an arm through hers and scoffed.

“Of course I do. What kind of romantic-comedy collection would I have without the classics?”

He signs her in as they sweep past the front desk and head up the elevator. He keeps an arm around her shoulder as they watch the lit buttons countdown. She leans into him and sighs heavily.

“Thanks for this. You really didn’t have to.”

“What kind of gentleman would I be if I left a pretty young lady sitting and crying all by herself?”

She laughs at his affected accent, before sobering again.

“No, but really, thank you. My parents can be right dick-heads and… well. Ice-cream and movies is just what the doctor ordered.”

They step out of the elevator and Kurt pulls her into a hug once they’re in the lobby. Blayne hugs him back, burying her face in the crook of his neck. (She absolutely does not think about how good he smells.) He rubs a hand down her back.

“No thanks necessary. What are friends for anyway?”

They let each other go and smile. He turns to go down the right hallway.

Blayne lets her smile drop for just a second.  _Friends._

She heaves an internal sigh- she always goes for the gay ones.

If irony were a person, she’s kick their ass.

_____________________________________________________________

Within a month they were inseparable. Kurt would even go so far as to say that Blayne was his best friend (although not within earshot of Rachel.) Rachel and Blayne had met and after the initial chill in the air had faded they’d gotten along famously. It had worried Kurt at first how similar they could be- was he forever doomed to attract pint-sized Streisand wannabes?- but Blayne had quickly assuaged his concerns.

(After all, she’d pointed out, she had a natural sense of fashion while Kurt had spent the past four years training Rachel on what she could wear in public.)

They were on one of their many “coffee dates”, as Blayne liked to call them, while cramming for finals. This was really just an excuse to escape the library for the thirty minutes or so it would take them to drink their coffee.

“Oh my  _God_.” Blayne groaned, flinging herself into the seat across from his. “I am so ready to be done with finals.”

“Winter break’s in two weeks- just focus on that.” Kurt didn’t look up from his notes, scratching out another line.

Blayne rolled her eyes and slumped down in her seat.

“That’s worse. I’d just like to go back to two weeks ago and stay there forever.”

“Two weeks ago you were freaking out over your English project.” Kurt reminded her, finally looking up form his papers.

She flung a crumpled napkin at him.

“You know what I mean, smart-ass. But saying that I should look forward to going home is like telling a prisoner they should be happy about being moved up to Death Row.”

“The cell’s are nicer and the food’s better.” Kurt said seriously.

She glared at him.

“Okay, fine. We’ll plan to get together at some point over break. You’re only like two hours away so we’ll find somewhere in between to meet up or something.” He pulled out his phone and began tapping away. “Here look, there’s a coffee shop forty minutes outside of Lima.”

He handed her the phone. She looked it over and then shrugged.

“I don’t mind the drive. The more I can get out of that house, the better.”

“Are you and your parents still fighting?”

Kurt didn’t know exactly what Blayne and her parents were always arguing about, but she’d showed up at his dorm more than once for a late-night musical and sleepover.  
She rolled her eyes again.

“When are we ever  _not_  in a fight. But it’s more that they’re not around much- the house gets empty.”

She stares into her coffee and stirs the flimsy wooden stirrer determinedly.

Kurt clears his throat after a moment and they make plans about when they want to get together over break. They decide on a day in the week before Christmas and Kurt invites Blayne to his dad’s for New Years. They keep chatting until Kurt’s phone beeps and he has to run across campus for his history final.

________________________________________________

Kurt is surprised at how much he enjoys being home for winter break.

Originally he’d planned to stay in the city with Rachel, but his dad and Carole had guilted him into coming home. Finn had arrived home a few days after him, different from how Kurt remembered him- more contained within himself somehow- but he still greets Kurt with a wide grin and crushing hug. (Kurt figures that being shipped off to training with only underwear and a toothbrush for several months had something to do with the new attitude. God knows, he would’ve gone mad after the few two weeks.)

But after the novelty of being able to sleep-in and keep his own schedule wears off, Kurt is bored. He and Blayne text all the time- it’s so  _weird_  not to be able to just meet up with her whenever. He hadn’t realized how big a part of his life she’d become before. Five days before their agreed meet-up date, he gets a text.

_do u want to come to my house? 'rents are out so place is empty. karaoke off?_

**_sure. be there in an hour._ **

**________________________________________________________________________________ **

_  
_The house that Kurt pulls up to makes his jaw drop. It wasn’t a mansion or even a particularly huge house- but it seemed to radiate intimidation and class. Kurt looked at the landscaping in awe as he drove up- it was like something off of a tv screen. The door was made of heavy wood and the knocker thudded heavily against the metal disk. A few moments later it was flung open by a disheveled looking Blayne, who had clearly skidded across the smooth floor in her socked feet. Her socks were ridiculously colored argyle[knee-socks](http://www.sockbroker.com/city/kh31.jpg) that nearly met up with her [skirt](http://www.modcloth.com/shop/skirts/sun-plus-fun-skirt?ref=1&utm_medium=CJaffiliate&utm_campaign=CJ&utm_source=CJ).

She lit up when she saw Kurt.

“Hi! Come on in!”

After he hangs up his scarf and coat, she pulls him into a tight hug.

“It’s seems like it’s been forever since I’ve seen you.”

He squeezes her back.

“It really does.”

They separate and Blayne grabs his hand.

“C'mon, lets go to my room. I’d take you up the main stairway, but I know a shortcut and it’s way more fun.”

She pulls him through a maze of hallways and up a narrow, spiraling staircase, down another few halls and into and open door.

Blayne’s room is… not what he was expecting. The walls are dark blue and the furniture is all dark polished wood. It seems to somber and a bit, well, masculine for Blayne. Kurt knows better than most that colors and cloths aren’t limited by sex or gender, but it just seems rather forced. Like someone had cut out a picture of what a boy’s room should look like from a magazine and made it real. It was odd- not that Kurt had had any set expectations for what Blayne’s room would look like. But She was about a far from a tomboy as you could get.

Blayne watched him look around.

“It’s… different from what I was expecting.” He said finally. She sighed.

“It’s the walls, I know. My parents won’t let me redecorate.”

The slight awkwardness of being in a friends home fades almost immediately after that. Blaine digs up some cd’s (“Roxy! Because Brian Ferry is a stone cold fox, Kurt. If I had a time machine, I would go back and kiss all up on his face.”) and proceeds to dance around the room as they talked. Kurt sits on the bed and flips absently through a Vouge that Blayne had left out (It’s from two months ago, but it was a good edition). A more upbeat song comes on and Blayne forces him to get and dance with her.

They twirl around the room, giggling madly as they do the most outrageous dance moves they know. Blayne spins him out and back in, and Kurt retaliates by twirling her around and sweeping her into a dip. They both freeze at the close proximity of their faces and their laughter fades. Kurt draws them up straight slowly, staring. Blayne does not look at his lips, don’t look at his lips, damn I looked at his lips….

Neither of them noticed the woman standing in the doorway until the music was abruptly shut off. They jump apart, hearts beating wildly.

“I have told you once, I have told you a million times not to blast your music.” The woman scowled at Blayne. “And for God’s sake, would you wash your face off and put on some appropriate clothing for once?”

Kurt glanced over at Blayne- he thought her outfit was fine, but he guessed that this was what she meant by her family being super conservative- and was concerned to see that she’d gone white. He put a steadying hand on her back, just in case she actually did faint.

“Mom.” Blayne said nervously. (That was a first- he’d never heard Blaine sound nervous before.) “I… I thought you were going to be out until later.”

“We finished early.” She turned her cold eyes on Kurt. “And who are you?”

“I’m Kurt Hummel, I’m a friend of Blayne’s from school. I live just the next town over, so I came to visit.”

She looked him up and down, the judgement in her lingering eyes making him stand up straighter and harden his own expression. She didn’t comment, just turned back to Blayne with a heavy sigh.

“I thought that you would out grow this phase of yours. Make sure you put on a suit before dinner.” She turned to go.

Kurt looked his friend’s outfit over again and frowned.

“What’s wrong with your outfit? It’s great.” He asked Blayne. Before she could answer, her mother turned around and cut her off.

“What is wrong with that outfit, Mr. Hummel, is that it is completely inappropriate for a young man to wear woman’s clothing. Something that my son seems to have trouble understanding.” She shot Blayne a dirty look. “I had hoped that this phase of homosexuality would pass after adolescence, but it appears to have just gotten worse without parental influence. Dinner will be at seven, Blaine, and I expect you to be dressed properly. Good Evening, Mr. Hummel.”

She left and slammed the door behind her. Kurt stood frozen for a second, as Blayne stumbled across the room to sit on her bed. He shook himself out of it. Blayne was white as a sheet, tears pooling in her eyes as she clutched her mouth and stomach like she might be sick.

He sits down next to her, hesitant to touch her. He doesn’t know how she’ll react- he’s never seen Blayne like this before.

“Blayne?”

She takes a deep, shuddering breath before looking at him.

“You can leave, if you want.”

Kurt frowns.

“Why would I want to leave?”

“Because, well, I’m, I’m not exactly… I can’t believe she would just… I’m…”

“Hey,” He scooted closer to her, reaching out to rub her back. “hey it’s okay. That was… unexpected, sure, but not bad. Really, it’s not a bad thing at all.”

Blayne sags against him in relief, swallowing back another hiccup sob. Kurt lets out a relieved laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

“Nothing. I mean, it’s not really funny it’s just- the one thing I’ve been sure of my whole life is that I’m gay. And then you come sweeping in and confuse the hell outta me. It just makes so much more sense now.”

“What does?” Her voice is hard as she sits up and looks at him.

“Well, I like guys, right? But I like you, too. A lot. Which was really confusing for me. But you used to be a guy, so…”

He trails off abruptly at her expression.

“What’s wrong?”

Blayne’s face is red and her eyes are bright again with unshed tears. Her hands are fisted in her blanket.

“Get out, Kurt.”

He nearly falls of the bed at the coldness in her tone.

“Blayne, what…”

“Get. Out. What part of that aren’t you getting?”

Kurt has never been on the receiving end of Blayne’s wrath. He holds out his hands pleadingly, standing up.

“Blayne, please, what…”

“Get out!” She screams, picking up one of the chunky heels from the floor and actually flinging it at his head.

Kurt runs.

The last thing he sees is Blayne’s heart broken expression before she turns to fling herself onto her bed.

-

“Shit shit shit shit. Fuck!" 

Kurt slams a hand against the dash of his car as the cell phone in his hand goes to busy again.

"Que, get off the phone!”

He’s pulled over a couple of blocks away from his house, knowing that his dad wouldn’t appreciate him swearing loudly in the house on Burt’s day off.

He dials again, the number he’s had since high school familier and easy as breathing.

“Hello!” A voice sings through the other end. “Unique aka greatest diva in all the land speaking.”

“Que, thanks for finally picking up. Who the hell are you talking to for so long?”

“None of your beeswax, doll-face. Could be my newest beau or it could be an exotic dancer from a Vegas show that I’ve kept in touch with, or they’re one and the same. You’ll never know. Now what’s got you so worked up?”

Kurt slumped down in his seat.

“I screwed up, Que. I screwed up really bad.”

Unique had kept in touch with Kurt and Mercedes after their interactions Kurt’s senior year. Unique had not only turned out to be a fantastically talented performer, but also a witty and honest friend. He could always trust her to be brutally honest in her advice and opinons.

He explained what had gone down at Blayne’s house earlier.

“…and then she threw a shoe at me and I ran away.”

He waits for Unique to answer. The silence is more of an answer than he would like it to be.

“…if I was with in arms-reach of you and not on the other side of the country, I would slap that pretty face of yours so hard you’d have my well-attended to palm imprinted on your cheek for a  _month_. What were you thinking?!”

He winced and pulled the phone away from his ear as Unique yelled.

“I don’t know! Everything just came out all wrong and I couldn’t stop talking.”

“No, you scared yourself silly because you still want girls to have cooties so that you don’t have to kiss them.”

“That doesn’t even make sense, Que.”

A crackly sigh makes it’s way down the line.

“What I mean is that you’re having some kind of big-gay-crisis and instead of thinking 'oh I might like to kiss a girl’ you started making excuses for yourself. You met her as a girl, you clearly think about her as a girl, and you  _like_  her. And you freaked yourself out and now she’s a casualty of your own inner turmoil. Get it?”

“Yeah, sort of.” Kurt sighed and sat up straighter in his seat. “This is just really, really confusing.”

Unique snorted.

“You ever think about how confused this girlie of yours must be? It’s sure throw me for a loop if one of my best friends, who looks and acts like the most flaming of gays, put the moves on me and said that I had a chance, only to turn around and make excuses as to why he can’t possibly be attracted to me in first place.”

Kurt fell forward and let his head thunk into the steering-wheel with a groan.

“I’m so stupid, Que. Movie nights, coffee, flirty duets- what was I thinking?”

“I really don’t think you were.”

He sits up, rubbing his forehead.

“I gotta talk to her and try to explain myself.”

“….Give her a day to calm down first. Then go grovel for the lady’s affections.”

_______________________________________________________

Kurt spends the next day planning and scrolling through iTunes. And then  ~~blackmailing~~  convincing Finn into helping him.

(“You of all people should understand what it’s like to screw up with a girl you like and have to sing an apology song, Finn Hudson.”)

He’d taken Unique’s advice and waited for a day in the hopes that when he went to grovel (it hurt to think that he was willing to give up his pride over what was maybe-a-bit-more-than-a crush. But if nothing else, he was strong enough to own up to his mistakes.) Blayne wouldn’t kill him, or worse, refuse to hear him out. He knew she’d be home alone the next afternoon because she’d been complaining about a fundraiser that her parents were going to for weeks. 

He and Finn searched until they found a key that worked for Kurt’s voice and Finn could manage on guitar. (Puck was a fairly decent instructor, but Finn was still working on it.)

Kurt wasn’t sure what the proper etiquette for this sort of thing was and Finn was unhelpful, just shrugging when Kurt asked. He didn’t want to show up to early, but also not in the middle of the day when Blayne might not be there, or at night because that would mean that he would have to wait a whole 'nother day to see her. And he couldn’t do that to them. Blayne meant too much to him to….

He froze, the glass of water he’d come into the kitchen to get clinking against the counter as he let it drop from his hand.

Blayne was one of, if not the, most importent person in his life.

He stared blankly at the sink as he thought. As much as it hurt to admit, the only people more importent to him than Blayne were his dad, Carole…. and as much as he loved Finn, he knew that if for some bizarre reason push came to shove, Blayne would win. He loved her differently than he did his family and…

He sat down at the kitchen table, feeling dizzy and drunk on emotion.

He loved her.

Like,  _loved_  loved her.

(Great timing for that revelation, he thought wryly. Couldn’t have been about two days ago- too easy.)

This made things so much simpler, and infinitely more complicated.

__________________________________________________________________

Ten o'clock the next morning and Kurt was trying to convince himself to get out of the car, but for some reason his hands remain stuck to the wheel. Finn sighed loudly next to him.

“You have to get out of the car, dude.”

“I know.” Kurt’s voice is pitched with nerves. He doesn’t move.

Finn sighs again and gets out of the car, grabbing his guitar out of the backseat as he does so. He walks around and opens the drivers door.

“Kurt, come on. I got up early to come with you.” Kurt sits there. “Look dude, if you can get  _Rachel_  to make that face where her eyes get all sparkly and big when you sing, then you can get back into this chick’s good book in no time.”

“It’s more then that, Finn.”

“Well, you’re kinda running out of time here, dude. Either get out and sing, or we can just go home.”

“I l- like her.”

“Well, duh. You guys are friends.”

“No, Finn, like… like  _like_  like her.”

A beat of silence.

“But, Kurt…”

“I know!” Kurt cuts him off, flinging his hands in the air in exasperation and finally letting go of the steering wheel. He gets out of the car, twisting his hands agitatedly. “And it’s been really confusing, and I screwed up really, really bad the other day, Finn. She might not even want to see me again.”

“Kurt…”

“What if this just makes it even worse and I dig myself in deeper? What if she’s already left?”

“Kurt.”

“What if she slams the door in my face and really  _does_  never want to see me again? What if-”

“Kurt!”

Finn cuts him off before he gets any more worked up.

“She’ll love it. From the way you’ve talked about her, it seems like you guys have something really special. Focus on that.”

Kurt took a deep breath.

“Thank you. Okay.” He squared his shoulders and marched up the front walk.

He pressed the doorbell and waited anxiously, rocking onto his heels while Finn stood behind him. After a long moment, the door swung open, revealing a sleepy looking Blayne, still in pyjamas. She straightened up abruptly when she saw him.

“What?” She asked flatly, crossing her arms. He swallowed hard.

“I came to apologize for the other day. I was out of line, and worse then that, a terrible friend. Um, This is Finn, my step-brother, Finn, this is Blayne. He’s here to help me out.”

She nodded curtly at Finn and narrowed her eyes at Kurt.

“Help you out with what?”

“Just listen, please?” He asked hopefully.

She didn’t reply, but didn’t slam the door on him, so he nodded quickly at Finn.

Finn strummed the opening chords- it was a simpler version from [the original](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VXaFEzxP61k), but Kurt hoped it got his apologie and message across.

Blayne’s face was carefully passive as he sang.

When they finished, Kurt had to clasp his hands to stop them from shaking. He gave her a hopeful look.

“Thank you for the song, it was lovely.”

She made to shut the door.

“No, wait!” he said desperately. It couldn’t just end like that, he couldn’t let them just fall apart like this.

Blayne opened the door back up a little, still looking at him cooly. He swallowed, begging the word to come out right. Finn muttered that he’d go wait in the car.

“In high school, I met someone- the lead singer of our main competition actually- she came to spy on our glee club and to ask me and my best friend Mercedes for some advice. She… she wasn’t herself in high school either. She was still going by Wade most of the time when we first met. I… she’s one of my best friends now, she lives out in California, near Mercedes. Nothing I said that other night came out right. I panicked and made an ass out of myself and I’m the worst friend ever. You don’t have to forgive me, it’s just you-”

He bites his lip, trying to find the right words.

“You  _move_  me on some level that a woman’s never done before and it  _scared_  me, but I’m hoping that you’ll give me the chance to try and make it up to you, even if friends is all we ever are.” He swallows hard. “I couldn’t bear to lose you, Blayne. You’re too importent to me for our relationship to be flung into jeopardy over my idiocy. I just hope that you feel the same way.”

She stares at him for a long moment. He fights the urge to fidget. His shoulder slump ever so slightly as she continues to watch him, waiting for… something.

“I’ll…” He holds his voice steady even though he feels as though his heart is falling an incredible distance. “I’ll just go, then. Um-”

He’s cut off by Blayne suddenly flinging her arms around his neck and kissing him, hard. He just barely keeps himself from toppling over and  _holy shit_ , if this is what kissing a girl is like… strike that, if this is what kissing  _Blayne_  is like, then Kurt is never going to be able to stop.

Her lips are softer and more pliant then any of the men he’s kissed (and she doesn’t taste like root beer lip gloss). He thinks that if he were to die in this moment, to just drown under the emotion of it, he would be quite happy to go.

When they finally pull apart, she punches him squarely in the shoulder, knocking him out of his daze. He yelps and rubs at the spot, but doesn’t protest to the treatment.

“You’re an idiot and I’m still mad at you.” She tells him. He nods, waiting.

“You really hurt me, Kurt. And I know that you’ll do everything to not screw up again, but I can’t forgive you. Not yet.” She takes a deep breath and Kurt stays quiet, letting her talk. “We’re still best friends, right?”

“Yes, of course.” Kurt says immediately.

“But it seems like we both want… more.” She tapped her finger thoughtfully against her leg.

(Kurt doesn’t let himself get his hopes up to far, doesn’t let his heart pound, doesn’t…)

“You can ask me out after New Years, if we still want to… I need time to think.” She says finally.

“Of course, anything you need.” He moves forward, but then hesitates. “Can I hug you?”

She chuckles, the tiniest of smiles playing across her face.

“Of course.”

He reaches out and pulls her into a tight hug. She gave the best hugs he’d ever gotten. She squeezes him back tightly, hiding her face against his shoulder. He breathes in the scent of her wild hair and relishes how easy it is to hold her in his arms.

They part much too soon. Everything’s not fixed, not yet. But it’s better. They’ll talk more- Blayne will call in a couple days and they’ll talk for hours. They’ll work through this obstacle like they’ve had to before.

But for now, the giddy sense of renewed hope is enough for both of them.


	2. 2

Kurt spends the spare time he has trying to sort out his giddy emotions and hopeless planning. He’s only got a limited amount of time to work in and so much to do.

Christmas Eve dawns and Kurt is busy prepping food for Christmas dinner the next day. He and Carole chat and catch up and make Burt and Finn go find firewood so that they can have a real fire in the fireplace for Christmas. (or as Kurt liked to call it, ‘Celebration of the Holy Shopping Sales’.) They wake up late and set the holiday movie currently on loop on in the background. They open presents and stockings and ooo and ahhh over the gifts.

It starts snowing outside as Carole and Finn leave for the afternoon for Finn’s grandmother’s house. Kurt and Burt putter around the house- cleaning the dishes, throwing away the wrapping paper from the gifts, putting the left-overs away. Kurt eventually finds himself in his room, turning the gift he’d gotten for Blayne over and over in his hands.

Would she like it? Was it tacky to give Christmas presents on New Years? Would….

He was interrupted from his musings by a rap on his door. Burt leaned on the doorframe.

“I was gonna make some more hot chocolate- you want any?”

Kurt nodded, shaking himself out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, I’ll some down in a sec.” He stares at the small silver box.

“For someone special?”

Kurt looked up. Burt nodded towards the gift.

“The present there- you’ve been looking at it like it’s got the answers to life in there.”

Kurt huffed out a laugh and put the gift down.

“I… yeah. Someone pretty special.”

“I’m sure he’ll love it, kid.” Burt turned to head downstairs.

“…she. She’ll love it. I hope.” Kurt’s voice hadn’t cracked like that since he was fifteen.

There’s a beat of silence in which Kurt stares fixedly at the floor. He can picture his dad rubbing a hand over his bald pate as he absorbs this new information.

“You… you sure, Kurt?”

Kurt lets out a breath he hadn’t been aware of holding.

“Yes. I’m sure.”

Burt huffs out a chuckle.

“Always keeping me on my toes, kiddo. Cocoa will be ready in a few.”

Kurt feels as though a great weight has been lifted off of him. After a few long moments to recover, he heads downstairs to join his dad.

_________________________________________________________________

Rachel has become a much better party host over the years since that absolute fiasco their junior year. (Making out with your best friend and step-brother’s ex-girlfriend, no matter how intoxicated you both are, is generally a bad idea. On the upside, he’d shared the spotlight and solos with Rachel for a whole week- until she’d kissed him again and then they’d decided to never speak of that week again.)

The Berry’s Anual New Year’s Gala is really two parties- Rachel’s fathers host one for the adults while Rachel uses the spacious basement for the younger people and her friends. Kurt heads over a few hours before the party is scheduled to start to help Rachel set up. (Well, to make sure that she used ingredients with taste and subtly replace at least a couple trays of h'ordeuvres with non-vegan options.) It takes until thirty minutes before the party, when they change into their dress clothes, for Kurt work up the nerve to ask.

“Rachel?”

“Mmhmm?” She is carefully freshening up her makeup.

“You know that Blayne lives around here, right?”

“Yes- she said that she might be running a little late in getting here though, so you can’t freak out until at least ten-thirty.”

“Oh. Okay. Good. That’s… that’s great.”

He scowls at her in the mirror when Rachel laughs at him.

_______________________________________________________

10:45

He grabs Rachel from the crowd and pulls her upstairs.

“It’s after ten-thirty, Rach. I’m freaking out.”

Rachel, who is even more of a light-weight than Kurt, pats him clumsily on the cheek.

“Don’t worry, she’ll come. A girl wouldn’t turn down a handsome boy like you.”

He grabs her hand and pulls it away from his face. Rachel giggles tipsily and slumps against him. She points suddenly down the hall he’d pulled them into.

“Ooo, Kurt look.”

Blayne is there, handing her coat to Hiram. Kurt feels as though he’s been treading water without realizing and then suddenly hit land.

It must show on his face, because Rachel giggles again and says something about leaving them alone before heading back downstairs. Kurt barely notices.

Blaine is wearing a dress with a fine black mesh long-sleeved top under it. Bright red heels make her stand taller than normal and her dark curls are swept back and out of her face. Kurt shakes himself and forces his feet to unglue from the floor to walk over to her. She finally spots him and relaxes instantly, a hesitant smile thrown his way. He smiles widely back.

“Hi.”

“Hey.” He’s not quite sure what to do with his hands, so he sticks them in his pockets.

Blayne rolls her eyes and opens her arms.

“Give me a hug, dumbass. I have actually missed you, you know.”

She crushes his ribs tight and he breathes in the scent of hairspray and honeysuckle that clings to her. They stand there for a long moment, holding onto each other as the light chatter of the party in the next room swirls around them.

When they pull apart, Blayne’s eyes are suspiciously glassy. She aims a half-hearted punch at Kurt’s shoulder as she runs her fingers under her eyes.

“Now look, you’ve and nearly made me ruin my nice makeup.”

He tugs her hands away from her face.

“It looks fine." He holds out his elbow for her to take. "May I escort you to the ball, m'am?”

Blayne laughs and loops her arm through his.

“Lead on, gentle sir. These heels are my mom’s and damned hard to walk in anyway. You might have to carry me down the stairs.”

He doesn’t end up carrying her, but she does lean heavily on his arm for balance. They find a place to sit and Kurt grabs two glasses of champagne as the clock hits eleven fifteen. They make light conversation- comments on the outfits of the crowd from Kurt, colorful background stories of strangers from Blayne. Kurt stands to get them more drink, and his coat pocket flaps against his ribs, reminding him. He refills their glasses and hurries back to where Blayne is sitting.

He hands her her glass and pulls out the object in his pocket.

“I almost forgot- I brought your Christmas present.”

He holds out the small box.

“I know that you want to write, and so I thought that this could help remind you how, someday, every paper and magazine is going to want you writing for them.”

She takes the box and lifts the lid. A smile dances over her face as she pulls her present out.

“A bowtie?”

“Yeah. You mentioned once that you liked bows because anyone could wear them- boys, girls, whatever- for just about any occasion and…”

“You remembered that?” Blayne looks surprised. “That was months ago, in passing.”

Kurt nods sheepishly.

“Well, I am a fashion major, and I… like listening to you talk?”

11:52

“Ten minutes til midnight!” Rachel hurries around the groups of people to alert everyone. Blayne chuckles as the flustered girl rushes past them before turning back to Kurt.

“Well, I didn’t get you anything for Christmas, but….”

A tv set up near them suddenly blares as it is turned to Times Square.

Blayne sighs, rolling her eyes.

11:56

“Guess I’ll just have to wing it!” She shouts over the party and the television, leaning in closer to Kurt.

“Kurt Hummel!”

11:57

“Will you be my boyfriend?”

At first Kurt’s not sure that he’s heard right. Then it really sink in what she’s asking.

11:58

“Only if you’ll be my girlfriend!” He shouts back. Blayne grins at him.

“Deal!”

10… 9… 8…

They shout the final countdown of the year together, silly grins plastered on both of their faces.

“One! Happy New Year!”

In New York City the ball drops and the crowd goes wild.

In Lima, Ohio, Blayne kisses Kurt so enthusiastically that he’s worried that they’ll fall off of the loveseat.

But not too worried.


End file.
